Now, I am Become Death, the Destroyer of Worlds
by ScissorSheep
Summary: "When two powers clash together and grow and flourish so much with each other, life is beautiful. Or it can take a turn for the worse, and utterly destroy the delicate red thread binding two souls together. They need nothing but space to heal wounds that festered under the glass eyes, but space is ample. The ocean keeps them apart." A poetic interpretation of falling out.
1. Flowers

**JUST A FEW THINGS REALLY QUICK**

 **Recently I have noticed that there are some people who repetitively keep shoving Septiplier in Mark and Jack's face since PAX West. Times have changed now and both of these amazing creators have girlfriends in their lives. And frankly, recently Jack has becomes increasingly bothered by people constantly shoving Septiplier in his face. You guys need to take a step back and realize that Jack and Mark are real people. If someone is uncomfortable with something, YOU STOP MENTIONING it.**

 **Yes they joke about it all the time, but that's their own deal. If they bring it up, that's them showing they are ok and comfortable with it at that time. There are just so many young people in this fandom that I feel like a lot of respect for both of these amazing YouTuber's comfort levels goes way out the window. It is never ok to tag either of them in Septiplier smut. And if they tell you to STOP mentioning the ship? You respect them. Drop it. I feel like Septiplier has caused a rift between these two friends lately and it's sad. They don't seem as close as they used to be, and Jack really shuts down when anyone bugs him and his girlfriend over Septiplier.**

 **Just take a step back and respect what the boy's are and are not comfortable with.**

 **(I'm not saying don't ship it, cause I ship it too, just ship respectfully ok.)**

* * *

It's hard to pin down when exactly things had started to change. Change was supposed to be a beautiful thing, bringing both new ideas and recycling older ideas into something new and exciting. Change is normally a beautiful cycle in life, filled with awe and wonderment, encouraging new things and blossoming friendships. Normally change is hard to accept, but most often warranted and accepted with time.

There is indeed however a type of change that is loathed. The type of change that wrings your heart out, that rips the security blanket of home far far away. That type of change is the hardest to see, when it's happening no one is really too sure. One moment things are soaring, you're on top of the world, and the next glaring minute, there is a monumental shift. It takes a while for such a change to truly and fully take effect. Sometimes it's the silliest of things that lighten the new somber yet glaring differences. Things are not always meant to last.

Even if the change is truly for the better most of the time it is very unwelcome. Because humans are accustomed to Habit, thus they are habitual beings at their very core.

Some change is for the better, but that doesn't always mean that change is for the better.

Jack knows that better than anyone.

He had sensed a monumental shift in his life after about a year of great times, laughs and giggles. Even the hard times within the good times truly held a special place in his heart.

It's hard sometimes. Putting up the happy face in front of millions and millions of blank faces that he desperately tries to understand. Some porcelain faces morph into happy smiles, at conventions and through art. Interacting with the flowers is always a blessing, a welcome new flow of energy.

There is also the porcelain faces that mold and break into tar. Tar that drags through streets and swallows up the rain. Tar that ruins the flowers. It's hard sometimes to ignore the mountain when it's your only footing at times. But it never stays for long. The flowers are strong and plentiful. They grow and breed in the beauty of fresh mulch.

Sometimes the flowers are less of a blessing. They create change. A negative type of change that Jack has not yet found a way to properly deal with yet. He is his own person, and prefers to be seen that way. Sometimes there is a dark cloud floating above him, sometimes he feels swept away inside the whirlwind. Other times, It's nice. Secure. Warm and welcoming, (after all it comes from his friends) but he doesn't like pity. He's never been the type to ride the waves of the ocean. He doesn't want the ocean to swallow him. Doesn't want to be blinded by the brilliant scarlet rays of the sun.

He paints canvases so bright and vibrant, independent and gorgeous. It's his paint, his blood, his sweat, and his tears that fills his vast portfolio with originality. He has gotten to where he is today on his own hardships. Supported and flourished by his flowers. Yet the flowers plant seeds of unwanted ideas that flood through in mass. He's drowning. Suffocated by the brilliant blue of the ocean. Scorched and left to dry by the brilliant, beautiful sun.

He doesn't want them to know.

He wants things to go back to what they were.

Before a portion of the flowers held him in their hearts for the wrong reasons.

When two powers clash together and grow and flourish so much with each other, life is beautiful. Or it can take a turn for the worse, and utterly destroy the delicate red thread binding two souls together. They need nothing but space to heal wounds that festered under the glass eyes, but space is ample. The ocean keeps them apart.

It's ripping him apart at the seams. He doesn't want to be swallowed whole.

It's caused the sun that once seemed so bright to dim in the artic blue depths.

He knows that they both have sensed it.

The red string is spread thin for now, but eventually their souls will merge together again. Time will heal all wounds. Their flowers will sway in the light of the sun, without overwhelming him in their sways.

Time will heal them.

* * *

FIN


	2. Effervesent

**Apologies about the very short chapter here. Truthfully I hadn't anticipated writing anything else for this fic. I had said what I needed to, gotten my point across. But something was urging me to sit down and write a sliver of Mark's journey as well.**

 **Frankly I hate it when super short chapters are posted like this (I'm sorry if this bothers anyone.) But that's not what I set out to do with this fic.**

**Just again, I can't stress enough. Respect these two amazing people.**

* * *

Mark is soaring through the sky, with wings spread wide and the wind singing free. It's the breath of fresh air filling his lungs that grounds him. A breath so calming, it soothes the strain from everywhere. He passes the ocean, misty salt encompasses his being, flavors his flesh with the salt of the earth. Their mother is all the same.

He wants nothing more than to soar in the sky with the birds, glide eloquently along the greenery, elegantly land and shake off his ruffled feathers. He longs for smooth picks to comb his feathers, bathe him in warmth. But Eve isn't up to dealing with anyone.

More specifically him.

It's ok. His wings are spread and he can visit the ocean, he can visit the jolly hills filled to the brim with smiling flowers. He can venture into the shadows, visit his old friend, and let the ravenous chaos rip through his chest. Encase everything that he is, and shatter it into a million pieces. Sometimes he wants to.

But he won't.

His precious flowers would wilt.

He wants to let go.

So he does. Jumps from a high cliff, and he's riding fluidly through the midnight air, gently caressed by the soft rain drops. It's a sudden change. But the rain is beautiful. It waters the landscape and nourishes the garden, keeps the tar at a distance. Its force is destructive if left untamed.

He's a phoenix. Rebirthed into a strange new world; it feels lonelier.

He knows that he was never meant to find out, to feel as if things changed in a negative way. Things are frugal at times, but none the less they always manage to meld together again. They are always stitched back together; two perfect pieces in the puzzle.

He's proud. The heat scorches him.

Eve had bitten into an entity so bright and beautiful! Nourished, happy, fed. The two stand on equal grounds. The rain pours, soaks, into their flesh the same. Their flowers have melded into an inseparable force of its own. The effervescent elation is addicting, the both feed like starving coyotes. Consuming flesh, bones, and it's toxic. The blood pools in the cusp of his mouth, he feels sick.

They are separated by the ocean. Comforted by the breeze. Until it plants ravenous young seeds that spread like weeds. Everything festers and builds, suddenly it's too crowded. Flowers are sucking the nutrients from the earth. Eve has nothing to eat, and when he does, there is nothing but bitterness scratching down his throat.

He doesn't try to fight it.

The ocean gives them ample space.

When he is ready, his wings will spread free again. When Eve is sucking from the dribbling juice of a bright red apple, he will come to change too. They can laugh and play, move on in life. Venture together as they once used to before.

The red string spread so thin, will bind them together for an eternity, but it will be healthy and thriving as it once was before. Their souls are brilliant, vibrant with longing, yet desperate to heal.

Mark is soaring across the sky, with the wind in his hair.


End file.
